The Way To A Man's Heart
by LxIsxJustice
Summary: "...is through his stomach." Dean's cooking is good, and Castiel hasn't eaten a proper meal in months. Delicious food, a pleased hunter, and being unused to his newfound humanity can only lead to one place. Indigestion. When Cas gets a belly ache, Dean finds the courage to both soothe the ache in Cas's tummy, and the ache in his own heart. Destiel. Dean/Castiel


**A/N: Hi everyone! I'm gonna start uploading some things I never got around to posting. This one was going to be fluffy and cute and ended up as smut...oh well! ^_^ The prompt was from Tumblr for Castiel not realizing he's supposed to stop eating BEFORE he gets a tummy ache, and the subsequent belly rubs Dean would have to give to make him feel better before they end up falling asleep. Somehow some "other" activities got thrown in here, but hey, I don't hear anyone complaining! Enjoy!**

Dean glanced over at his friend, watching the food he'd cooked disappear at an alarming rate, and frankly that was saying something coming from _him_. Hell, there hadn't been an eating contest he couldn't handle while growing up, and it had carried through into adulthood.

"Dude, take it easy. It'll still be there after you chew and swallow. I'm not touching it, I made it for your hungry ass," Dean said, raising a brow when Cas's hands stilled for a moment.

"My apologies, Dean. I am unused to needing sustenance, and it has been...some time since I was last able to eat," Cas murmured, looking down at his plate guiltily, like it was his fault he hadn't eaten a decent meal in way too long. "This food is also very pleasing to taste."

Dean stood abruptly, shuffling for a moment before he walked away, grumbling about flattering dudes who had long given up on cooking and chick flick moments. He went over to the fridge to dig out something for himself and came to sit with the ex-angel, who had quickly gone back to wolfing down as much food as possible. The hunter sighed and shook his head. "Alright, but don't come crying to me when you get sick 'cause you ate too much."

Which was _exactly_ what he did several hours later after Dean had parked himself in front of the T.V. in his room, watching some of the awful old movies stored in the bunker. It was nice to be mindless every once in a while, and these things were so bad it was pretty effortless to let himself drift in a guiltless blank space where he could easily fall asleep if he wanted to.

"Hello, Dean."

A voice drew him from his lazy stupor, and he glanced blearily over at the clock, which cheerfully informed him it was too late-or early-for anyone to be up.

"Cas?" He asked stupidly, and squinted at his friend. "The fuck, man? What's wrong?" He was suddenly a little more alert, but until Cas sounded the alarm on some immediate problem, he wanted to be able go to sleep, thank you very much.

"I know you requested that I not bother you with...with unease in my stomach, but I have tried to rest for a number of hours and I…" he trailed off, looking lost and in pain and Dean suddenly realized he was clutching his stomach and shaking with the effort to keep upright. Dean grimaced in sympathy, a little amazed at Cas's willingness to be on his feet right now. The guy didn't understand the concept of laying down and bitching until the problem went away.

Dean sat up, tired and a little cranky at having his peace interrupted, but this was Cas, and well…

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and went to his bathroom to grab some medicine and a glass of water. He handed them over and watched the angel down them both in one go, making a face at the gritty taste. "Yeah, these things are nasty. You should be able to sleep though, once they kick in." He wondered how the ex-angel had been sleeping. Was it easy for him? Did fear, or guilt, or loneliness keep him up while the bunker was silent but somehow echoing with words unsaid like it did to Dean?

"So, uh, guess I'll see you in the morning then." Never mind that he wished Cas would be the first thing he'd see in the morning.

It never seemed like a good time to say anything. By the time he'd gotten over his own reluctance and the shit that had been drilled into him about liking dudes, so much had happened that it never seemed appropriate to tell Cas that he'd craved his touch and attention for years now. That if he ever needed to lean on someone, Dean really wanted it to be him, and would welcome the ex-angel into a heart he guarded more fiercely than the gates to heaven. Would willingly do whatever Cas needed to be happy because that had begun mattering more to him than his own comfort a long time ago.

The small shift in his friend's stance is what did it. Without moving almost at all, he practically _wilted_ in front of him. His entire demeanor went from grateful and contented, if a little nauseated, to dejected and uneasy, and a whole lot nauseated.

"Or, you know, you could stay here for a bit." _All night, just stay here and be with me._ "I was ready to go to bed, but we can watch a movie if you want."

"Yes, that would be acceptable," Cas rushed to reply, far too quickly, and Dean's heart thudded a little harder, wondering if the moment had shifted in his favor. Whatever Cas's feelings on the subject were, he'd never know if he didn't man up and at least _ask_. Even if Cas didn't want him like that, he wasn't going to shame him for it. Hell, the guy hardly knew anything about love or sex or the whole bit even with the recent events.

His mind still got stuck on that sometimes, awed and more than a bit jealous, but it wasn't like his record was squeaky clean-not even remotely close.

Either way, at worst the ex-angel would be confused and squint at him and tell him he couldn't return the sentiment, and that would be that.

It would hurt like hell, but only in the emotional kind of way. Dean was good at burying that shit. But, he needed to give Cas that chance, and if the reaction _wasn't_ rejection...if he told Dean that he-

Fuck, he needed to take step back and breathe.

He popped a new movie in, picking _Star Wars_ since he wanted Cas to see them anyways, and came back to the bed to settle against the headboard, pretending not to notice the man dithering. He walked in jerky, nearly fearful steps, but valiantly climbed over to Dean, eyes darting around for a place to settle. Dean hadn't given him many options, trying to take up as much space as possible. The hunter closed his eyes to get a hold of himself when Cas said his name quietly, as a question.

"Figured I could make your stomach ache go away a little faster. Get over here and I'll show you how to settle it easier." No innuendo there, in all reality. His body might be disagreeing, but there could be no step two if Cas was in pain anyways. And making Cas feel better would put his own heart at ease. The guy was so new to this, and it had to be terrifying. Dean wondered what would happen if Cas had the opportunity to get his Grace back, and quickly pushed that from his mind.

As it stood, Cas was human, and had no idea what to do about it. He was taking all the advice he could get, apparently, because he settled between Dean's open legs, letting himself be guided by Dean's _not _shaking hands-he'd swear it-to lie against his chest, facing the T.V. that was beginning to play one of his favorite movies.

He wasn't going to see a second of it.

The hunter counted to ten, quelling any reaction at being this close to someone, and slowly put his hands on Cas's clothed stomach, giving the man time to react if he wanted to. When he said nothing, Dean started to work his hands in small circular movements. His fingers pressed and kneaded gently, feeling the tension in Cas's belly from eating too much, too fast.

"You gotta be more careful, Cas. Being human is a lot of really annoying body things. We have to take care of our meatsuits. We only get one," he murmured, laughing a little at the expression Sammy would make at hearing him say that. He'd give bitch-face number eighty three and roll his eyes skyward, throw up his hands and sigh loudly like the drama queen that he was. Pie was an exception. So was booze and cigarettes and burgers and who the hell was he kidding, he was a goddamn hypocrite and it made this even funnier.

But Cas just hummed in agreement, not calling him out on it, and let himself relax into Dean's arms. He eased his head onto Dean's shoulder, neck tilted back and bared with more trust than Dean had ever seen anyone do for him. It was making things a lot harder-pun entirely intended-to have Cas's stubble scratching at his neck if he moved his shoulder to slide his hands up and down his friend's sides, trying to focus on making him feel better and not how thin he was, or how the lean corded muscle he could feel under his hands was making his mouth dry.

Cas's nose skimmed along his jaw, and Dean's brain short circuited a little when Cas let out a quiet sound as Dean kneaded a new spot on his belly.

"Uh...you okay, man? Didn't hurt you, did I?"

A sleepy noise that was probably disagreement was his only answer, and Cas and brought his own hands up to cover Dean's in a silent request to continue. Dean breathed out, loud to his own ears, and knew that there was no way in hell or heaven he was reading this wrong. Not even an angel-recently stripped of that title or not-couldn't understand this. God, he hoped that was the case.

"Your hands feel good, Dean," Cas whispered, and _fuck_ that was that. Dean was taking his shot. He didn't stop his hands, just continued to rub Cas's belly, and slowly, carefully tilted his head down a little to press a lingering kiss to the side of Cas's neck. He felt the angel go eerily still, like he had forgotten that humans need to breathe, and he almost apologized, almost lost it and pleaded with his friend to ignore his crazy lapse in judgement.

But then Cas leaned his head to the side, giving Dean all the skin he could want, and sighed, melting against the hunter in the most open and willing way he could recall seeing.

"Yeah?" he asked, voice rasping and overwhelmed, feeling ineloquent and tongue-tied. It didn't matter, though. Cas understood.

"Yes."

A rush of air left Dean's lungs in an instant, and he breathed a relieved '_okay_', and kissed under Cas's jaw, ignoring the odd angle to run his hands up the man's throat and caress it while he tilted him back for a kiss. It was all chapped lips and a little uncomfortable with the way his neck was strained, but fuck if it wasn't perfect. It fit, somehow. The awkwardness mixed with the amazing way Cas could take him from zero to sixty in anything he asked for.

He broke the kiss to mouth at the shoulder just under the other's open collar while he slid his hands up under Cas's worn out shirt-one of his own that he'd loaned to him for selfish and unselfish reasons alike-to resume his massage, this time directly on skin. The ex-angel moaned a little, legs falling open and if Dean had any less self-restraint, this would be over before he'd accomplish what he wanted to do. He was all for fast and hard and rough, but this…

This is what he wanted to have with Cas before all that. He hated the cheesiness of the phrase 'lovemaking' but it didn't taste so sticky when he applied it here. There were enough 'firsts' present here to make worrying about labeling sex seem ridiculous.

After a time, he shifted to unbutton Cas's shirt instead, feeling his friend's breath speed up in spite of himself as he watched Dean's fingers make progress on opening the shirt and felt his hips calmly rolling up against the back laying against him, desire evident and Dean wondered what this felt like to Cas, who'd barely begun to explore the part of himself that might want intimacy like this.

"Your hands are beautiful," Cas said, the compliment startling Dean a little, who was more used to dirty talk in bed than observations like that. He was glad Cas couldn't see the dubious expression on his face.

He'd always thought his hands were made for working, not skilled with small tasks or soothing things or shit like that. He could fight with them, and pat people on the back, and grip Sammy's shoulder with them with solidarity, and run them through his hair in agitation, but he couldn't heal with them like Jo and Ellen and Ash. Or make people feel at ease and safe like Sam and Bobby. Or stir up playfulness and gratitude long forgotten like Charlie and Kevin. No, his hands were to protect and defend, but more often than not they hurt the ones he most needed to keep free of pain.

"You have scars even there," Cas continued, his tone wondering and low and Dean thought he might explode from the weight of his rapidly beating heart. It wasn't unpleasant. "Marked in the least noticeable of places with strength." His breath stuttered when Dean moved lower, running his fingers along the waist of low-slung jeans. "I can feel them when you do that. It feels-they catch on my skin, but they didn't before. Sensation was much more muted in a vessel and not my own body." Dean's hands worked on unbuckling Cas's belt, placing open mouthed kisses along his neck and to the top bone of his spine, hiding the reddened flush that had sprung along his face at the praise he was being given.

Well, he supposed dirty talk covered a lot more ground than he'd originally thought.

"It feels...surprisingly good," Cas rasped, reaching his hands up again to place them over Dean's once more, helping him drag his jeans down to reveal Cas's hard length, already a little slick, and if that wasn't a confidence booster, Dean didn't know what was. His mouth watered at the sight of Cas hard for him, a little surprised at his lack of a freakout. He'd seen naked guys before, _hello_, he watched porn of all varieties for both pleasure and curiosities sake, but he'd expected needing a bit of time to think about this before he-

Cas's cry of need was harsh in a lull of the film when he wrapped his hand around him, and all hesitance flew out the door like a wicked witch on her broom. His only thought was to posses the one he loved and craved, to please him, make him understand how wrecked Dean was for him, and listen to that voice wring out his name when he fell over the edge and came with Dean chasing just behind him.

He started an easy pace, thinking about what he liked and figured it was as good a place to start as any.

"Dean," Cas moaned his name, bringing him back from thoughts of all the things he'd seen and read about and how amazing they might feel with Cas. He stroked a little faster, twisting his wrist a bit on the downturn and feeling emboldened when it made the ex-angel's hips thrust into his grip.

"I've got you, Cas."

And he meant it to the very core of his being. Hell or high water, Cas was with them. For better or worse. And that was sounding too much like marriage for comfort, but the sounds Cas was making were quickly distracting him.

"Do that again," Cas demanded when Dean pressed his thumb to the tip, teasing the slit and eliciting a whine from his friend's throat. The hunter couldn't help but chuckle.

"So bossy," he laughed into the soft hair of Cas's head. "I'll never have to wonder what you want." He shifted out from under Cas's back, pressing him to the mattress to lean over him. He sat back on his heels to strip out of his own shirt, making a lazy gesture to his jeans with a quirk of an eyebrow.

Cas immediately reached up to try and wrangle the offending garment off, getting frustrated for only a moment before he made an obvious effort to slow down and work them off of Dean, while the hunter did the same for him. Socks followed and suddenly there was more skin to take in than Dean could handle.

"Holy shit," he breathed, reaching out to touch very slowly, a teasing lightness that had Cas panting, but he couldn't find it in himself to feel bad. He needed a minute.

There were scars, Ezekiel had left them in place, saying they were a part of Cas now, in the most honorable way possible, and the contrast of them and Cas's pale skin was mesmerizing. He reached up to touch his chest, curling his index finger around a nipple to harden it while his thumb ghosted over a scar by his heart. Too close for comfort.

"Dean, please-" Cas whimpered, caught between the worshipful look on Dean's face and the need to be held by him again.

"You're fucking beautiful, you know that?" Dean asked, lowering himself to lie on top of Cas, fitting together in every perfect way, and hissed at the feeling of slick skin on skin. He undulated his hips, dragging his length along Cas's to feel the pleased moan rumble in the marked up chest. That pink mouth was open and bitten and Dean's mind jumped to everything he wanted to do to it. For now, though, he wanted to taste it. He brushed their lips together, soft for a moment before he pressed a bit more, nipping along the bottom lip and licking into Cas's mouth to play with his tongue. He pulled away for a moment. "Like what you said about my hands except...everywhere."

He felt bulky again, embarrassed, and he groaned at his own awful way with words.

"Yes," Cas moaned, and suddenly Dean felt a little lighter. "I've thought about how you would feel so many times." What the _fuck_? Dean pressed so hard into Cas with surprise he almost came right there. As it was, he couldn't help but tangle their fingers together against the sheets as he sped up their movements, staring at the man under him with rapt attention and so much love he didn't know how it was fitting in his body.

"You-"

"I wondered, in the beginning, about your experience. You were so adamant that I needed to know the delights of the flesh, and it made me think of what you might do or say when with a woman. By the time I truly understood the strange feelings in my stomach, I was wanting to know what if would be like if _I _was the one you were taking." His breath was coming shorter now, trying to wheeze out the words while his hands helplessly clutched at Dean's hips and ass and gripped at his hair while the hunter bit at his neck and tongued his nipples and licked down his chest and belly and the insides of his wrists and Dean was sinking. He didn't know if he'd ever resurface.

Or if he ever wanted to.

"But it was more than that. We have been bonded for so long, from the moment I flew from Hell with you clutched tightly to me, I did not realize the extent to which I'd taken it for granted. Being able to hear and find you whenever I could, and feeling your soul humming quietly, threaded through my Grace...knowing that you were mine so much so that it didn't matter if I couldn't be with you in every way, so long as I had that…" His voice broke on a sob of Dean's name, and the hunter knew they were both close, so close.

He broke pace, slowing down to give them a moment, and listen to the impossibilities that Cas was saying between the keens of desire.

"Fuck, Cas, I didn't-I don't deserve-" He stopped and just shook his head, reaching a hand between their sweaty bodies to grasp them both, thrusting against this incredible being that he could finally call his own. "You felt it then? When-"

"My Grace was ripped from my body, and it was your name that tore from my lips," Cas finished the thought. It had hurt, in a muted kind of way, and Dean had brushed it off as an old injury pain, trying to rid himself of the unease that had fallen for a bit.

He let out a harsh breath, and reached over to his bedside table, suddenly knowing what he wanted to do for Cas. His fingers found the lube he'd never planned on using for anyone but himself here, and coated his fingers in the slippery gel, watching Cas's expression go dark, daring him with his eyes to have him like this. Dean rubbed his fingers along his entrance, not letting himself think too hard about what he was going to do, and how he didn't have much clue about what he was doing. They'd figure it out, and right now, he was abandoning his plan of keeping it to simple, comfortable frottage and jerking off in favor of giving Cas what he was wanting.

The ex-angel pulled him down for a soft kiss, letting the anguish he'd been feeling be tasted by Dean's tongue, finally able to let it go. "Every day since, you have been missing. I was so grateful each time I could make a phone call to you. It reminded me that you still existed, and I would see you just as soon as I could make it to you. I've been...there are no words for how much I've craved feeling you that way. I didn't know I would be so bereft until it was already too-_oh_!"

Cas let out a shaky exhale and a whimper of need when Dean pushed into him with a finger, a little too much at first and Cas recoiled a bit, but Dean readjusted and carefully began to work him open, listening to the telltale signs of when he was making Cas feel good, and when he added a second finger, his friend nearly bucked off the bed with a high keen piercing the air, and Dean stared at him.

"Holy shit, was that your prostate?" He asked, and wanted to kick himself for the inanity of that question, but _jesus fucking christ_ if that was the response, he might very well reconsider wanting to be the one doing the fucking, so to speak, more often than not. Some self-experimentation was going to be in order very soon.

"Dean, Dean, please, I'm so close. I want you to-" Cas snapped his mouth closed, gritting his teeth on a moan when Dean kept brushing over that spot with his fingers. He pressed down against them, and Dean didn't know if he should add another, or if that was too much right now, or- "I need to feel you in me again, I have been so lost without knowing for certain that you are mine. And I will not last if you don't do something _now_."

Dean's head was whirling with the dizzy tiredness from before, and the knowledge that he was about to sink into Cas, fuck into the body that had featured in nearly every fantasy he'd had in years.

And even better, in the morning he would wake up next to this incredible being, and maybe, if the lamp light cast the right glow and the atmosphere was hazy and dreamlike, he would find the balls to tell Cas that he loved him.

Cas's hand took the lube from near his thigh, and squirted some into his palm, rubbing it between his fingers while examining it with interest, before he glanced down to Dean's erection and flushed in obvious anticipation. He licked his lips, keeping eye contact with Dean, and ran his hand along Dean's shaft, unsteady and hesitant in his movements, but Dean had to bite his lip to keep from crying out at the feeling of the warm, wet hand on him.

"Penetrate me," Cas commanded, and Dean would have laughed out loud if the way Cas had said it hadn't sounded hot as hell. He didn't know when he'd traded all the experience of mind blowing sex with women he'd had in the past for this awkward fumbling with an even more socially challenged ex-angel, but when he pulled Cas in for an earth shattering kiss that held years of longing and desire and love between them, he knew he was ruined for anyone else.

He wouldn't want it any other way.

"How do you want this? The stuff I looked at said it'd be easier the first go-round if you were on all fours…" As amazing as that sounded, he couldn't help but want to see-

"I want to watch you when we are joined."

Well, that made things a thousand times easier.

"Okay," he sighed gratefully, not ready to admit wanting the same thing. "Trust me?"

"Always, Dean."

That should not have reverberated through his soul as fervently as it did, but Dean shuddered at the words nonetheless.

He eased into Cas's body, realizing with the most hysterically giddy quiver that this was going to rock his world. He was barely in and Cas was hot and tight, gripping him so tightly he wondered if he should have prepared him more, but Cas's breath was shallow, and hitching on sounds bordering between pain and pleasure, so he found the willpower to talk.

"Cas? You okay, sweetheart? Am I hurt-"

"Give me a moment," Cas panted, tears leaking from the corner of his eyes and Dean caught one on his tongue on the way down to kiss the ex-angel to try and soothe him. "I was not anticipating it to feel like this."

Dean felt useless, trying to figure out if that was a bad thing, and not knowing how to make it better if he was in pain. Suddenly, something in Cas gave way, and the air rushed out of him as he sank fully into the other man's body, pressed chest to chest and _oh god oh god it was too much, there was no way he was going to last how the hell did people do this without-_-

"Dean, please!" Cas cried out, desperate, and there was no stopping it anymore. Dean pulled out and thrust in again, trying to gain some sense of which way was up or down, but this was Cas, he was making love with_ Cas_-fuck his wording sensibilities-and he had this man's name etched into his ribs and soul whether he was an angel or a human or anything in between.

He set a rapid pace once the other man's face slackened in pleasure, letting him know he was adjusted, and he felt Cas wrap his legs around him, ankles locked around the backs of his thighs, scratching at his back hard enough to send shivers along Dean's spine and _fuck _Cas had just nailed a kink without realizing it. Cas was trying to hang on and ride out the shudders he could feel with each brush to his prostate, but Dean had no intention of letting him last much longer.

He'd gone too long without, and Dean felt himself begin to lose it. He leaned back to brace over Cas, threading the fingers of one hand through the soft hair at the nap of Cas's neck while the other reached between them to stroke Cas in time with his thrusts.

Something in Enochian broke the haze of lust, and he realized with a start that it was his name. Cas looked at him through eyes clouded with desire and need and so much love, and he was lost.

They came almost simultaneously, the sounds of their names mingled in the heated air, low voices ragged with completion and satisfaction when Dean collapsed over Cas, pressing his face into the neck of his angel-human or not-to try and catch his breath for a long moment. His muscles protested the abuse after a while, though, and he pulled out slowly from the welcoming heat of the spent body under him.

He could feel the aftershocks rocketing through them both, so he rolled to pull Cas over him, grabbing the blankets so they were cocooned in an intimate warmth together. He knew his attitude towards their messy state would change in the morning-it was really gross waking up practically sticking to someone, but right now, all he wanted to do was whisper in Cas's ear until they fell asleep.

"Is it strange to say that our sexual congress was amazing?"

Dean chuckled and stroked his hand through the other's sweaty hair, turning his head to let Cas give an open mouthed kiss on his neck. He was learning fast. "Nah, lots of people say that. Don't know why, it usually speaks for itself, but I'm a cocky son of a bitch that likes to know he did his job well, so there's that." He pulled Cas up for a quick kiss.

"Did I do everything...correctly?"

"You were incredible, trust me."

Cas was silent for a moment. "I think I understand the appeal of hearing that."

Dean laughed again, and moved to lie on his side, hand pulling Cas closer by the hip. He could feel the other man tracing sigils along his back and he sighed in contentment. "Is your stomach feeling better?" He asked sleepily, already half-dead to the world.

"Of course. Your healing skills are really very admirable." A long time passed as they shared easy kisses and snippets of exhausted conversation, until they couldn't keep it up anymore and pressed against each other to nod off.

He was just at the edge of oblivion when a voice closer to sleep than his own murmured, "I love you, Dean."

He pressed closer to Cas, feeling more at peace than he had been in a long time. _Empire Strikes Back_ was still playing the background, and he grinned, unable to help himself.

"I know."

_Fin_

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